So I suck at blogging apparently...

I mean fuck...I haven't written anything in full since April. Sad, I know. So a ton of shit has happened. I think I've started writing about it like five times and either get sidetracked or try to write much deeper than what I really need to.

So yeah, I moved in May, and when I say "I moved" it's because I indeed moved all of my shit in addition to all of my brother's shit. Me, I could have had all my stuff packed and moved in four hours. My brother (who by the way didn't pack a damn thing until it was the actual moving day), not so much. Forty-two and a half hours straight baby.

Now I love my brother to death, I really do. But, I swear to God almighty (my god, not yours) that I am about to strangle him and become an only child. So the fact that I had to find new accommodations for us doesn't really bother me, nor the whole moving all of our stuff. He did try valiantly to keep pace with me, but I was on a different level during that whole clusterfuck. I'm even over the fact that taking the trash three feet across the hall to the trash chute and putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher are too menial of tasks for him. His new girlfriend is driving me up the fucking wall. And that really doesn't even begin to describe how I really feel.

It's not even her so much as the fact that she has essentially moved in with us. Which wouldn't be a huge deal if we lived in a two bedroom place. Yes, I know all of you out there in my non-existent readership are wondering where we live if not in a two bedroom. Well, I'll tell you. For purely financial reasons (and the fact that we never entertain) we decided that a one bedroom would suit our needs. I took the room and he has the living room. Settle down, just settle the hell down. My father and I, like the manly men we are, built a seven foot tall, twenty-eight-ish foot long screen to give him some privacy, so it's not like he's out in the open.

But anyways, on or around the time we were moving he started dating a girl he works with, good for him, seriously. She started coming over a few nights a week after giving him a ride home since he doesn't drive...no not can't drive, just doesn't. And at first she seemed okay. I don't really have anything in common with her, but it wasn't a big deal. Well then a few nights a week became five nights a week and then after July fourth weekend, it's been every fucking night of the week. Did I mention we live in a one bedroom? So I'm now basically stuck in my room after ten pm because I don't want to risk the wave show or hearing humpbacks mating. And he's not an Animal Planet enthusiast...they're both fat.

I'd really like to talk to him about the situation and how it's really bullshit and inconsiderate, but since she has basically moved in it's become quite difficult. So I'm just steeling myself for the inevitable day (which will come quite soon I'm sure) when I just fucking lose it and I'm sure will divide us for a long long time. C'est la vie.

Well that's about all I'm prepared to write tonight.